Look Out For Me
by TheRedhood908
Summary: What happens after a life of looking out for oneself, when you find a person who's willing to be there you? Marcy Long finds the answer to that question in the General's arms.


This was wrong. What they were doing was wrong. Both knew it, and anybody who knew, as there were undoubtedly others in Sanctuary that could see, knew, deep in their hearts that what they were doing was wrong. But neither Frank, general of the Minutemen, or Marcy Long, could stop. It was like needing air for the both of them, or needing food. You would eat or drink and your need for nourishment would be gone. Give it time however, and that same thirst, that same hunger would come right back. They knew they were bound to be discovered. Knew that eventually it would end and end badly, but still neither one of them could muster up the willpower to stop needing the other.

It all started in Concord though both of their stories reach much farther back, Frank to the dropping of the atomic bombs and Marcy back to the ruins of Quincy.

They had both been running, one away from something and one after something else. And fate would have them smack right into each other. Marcy had thought they were doomed, and part of her welcomed the prospect of death. Her son, Kyle, was gone. What else did she have? A part of her mind whispered, even then, with raiders knocking on the door and threatening to kill them and most likely worse, that she still had her husband. She had looked towards the man, shaking and crying on the floor and for the first time felt nothing for him. No love, no warmth. Nothing. Just an empty coldness. She tried to tell herself that she was being unfair. That she had been blaming Jun for the death of their son. She knew that there was truth to it and she knew, deep down she knew, that Jun was not responsible.

What truly stoked her anger, was the fact that he had been unable to save Kyle. Unable to do anything to protect their little boy. He had allowed him to follow the Minutemen around. He had allowed him out even when there was danger. She bore her responsibility as well, knowing it was not fully his fault. But he was the one who had convinced her, making her acquiesce to his logic. It had been the last time that Marcy had allowed herself to be led by her husband.

With the banging on the door intensifying and Preston worrying more and more, Marcy began to pray. It was a secret she kept from her husband. He had stuck to the old ways of his ancestors, a people long forgotten and only tied to the present by Jun's desire to honor them. To Marcy such sentiments were….misguided at best and contrary to her beliefs at worst. Against her husband's wishes, and without his knowledge, she had become a Christian, being baptised by Father O'Reilly, a ghoul who had been a priest before the Great War of 2077 who travelled from place to place preaching the word of God. She had kept her new faith private, her bible always hidden on her person to keep it from Jun. Occasionally she would read from it to Kyle, swearing the little boy to secrecy.

But now, in this derelict museum in the middle of Concord, she prayed to him once more, for the first time since she had lost her son.

The answer that followed, was almost instantaneous. Shots echoed out from behind the door, followed by the dying screams of raiders. After the passage of minutes that seemed to stretch into an eternity, a knock was heard on the door. "Hello?" Came the voice and Preston, their leader, warily took the handle of the door and opened it, exposing a man who was in his mid to late twenties, no different than most of the group, excluding Mama Murphy of course. Marcy couldn't help but look at him, instantly noticing the vault suit, a general fish out of water look surrounding the man.

"Man, your timing is impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen" says the man who had become their de facto leader since escorting them from the burning ruins of Quincy. The rest of the conversation drifted away, the vault dweller, his name turned out to be Frank, agreeing to help the ragtag group even further. He walked past her, flashing the woman a smile before moving on. She just shook her head, angry at the fact that he was the only one.

"There are more of you right? There has to be more of you" she had said to him which prompted him to shake his head. "Sorry ma'am but, I'm it. Let's see if I can't help you out further though" he had said, Marcy catching a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before he had moved off, fusion core in hand, towards the crashed vertibird and power armor. She didn't know much about what had happened after that, remaining in the building while the man fought outside. She heard the sound of gunfire through the walls however and Preston's panicked shouts as a Deathclaw entered the fray, trying to kill the man in power armor.

After an intense firefight it was not sure who won, and the silence made that lack of knowledge even more frightening. Preston was quick to dissuade them of fear however, assuring them that the vault dweller had won the fight and ushering them all downstairs into the main entrance to meet their unlikely hero. He walked in, still wearing the power armor and asking if everyone was okay. Preston talked with him, rewarding him with a few fusion cells and some caps, really all they had left. She would've been angry with their leader if she had the had the energy but she was just too damn tired and having to basically force Jun along was weakening her already fragile state of mind.

That's why she snapped when Mama Murphy started rambling about her visions. Sure, Marcy didn't really care about the visions. After all she thought it was a lot of superstition. But for some reason, this time she snapped.

"What do you mean, 'sanctuary awaits?' you've been saying that since we left Quincy and the only thing we've gotten is either killed or wounded. We are down to five, and we can't keep going off on this chem addic-" she says before being stopped by Sturges, sharply cutting her off. "Have any better ideas Marcy?" He asks, forcing the Asian woman to reluctantly admit that she did not. "Okay then. We head on to where Mama Murphy says".

Just like that the group was off again and one thing she noticed was the silence of the vault dweller. He just stood there, taking it in and offering no real agreement or disagreement. It was almost like he was stuck in another world than they were. He wound up following them back to Sanctuary, Preston continuing to talk with him before asking him to go and assist a settlement to the north. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course Preston would instantly start in on the Minuteman talk of ideals and duty. It worked so well the last time after all didn't it?

She set to gathering up their food supplies, desperate to be busy and get her mind off of the horrors that she and the rest had seen, the friends they'd lost. She didn't have time for anything. Preston and his speeches, Murphy and her chems, Sturges and his aloofness or even Jun and his self pity. She had to do something. She had to assist herself. Her mother had always told her, headstrong as she was, that she would always have to look out for herself. Even as a little girl she grew used to hearing this. "After all", her mother had asked her, "who is going to do it for you if not you?"

That stayed with her for the rest of her life and she didn't dare question her mother's wisdom.

The next few days were spent with everyone patching up the old neighborhood, trying their best to salvage what they could and repair the homes. Codsworth, a leftover Mr. Handy, was proving instrumental in this endeavor and the robot seemed to have a fondness for the vault dweller. How, she had no idea. It wasn't likely that they had known each other before the war or anything like that. Perhaps he had helped the robot water some gardenias or something after exiting the vault. That was the only explanation.

Preston was quick to point out that the unlikely was becoming the reality of their world every single day. As it turned out Frank had been frozen before the war. He had lived in this neighborhood and was willing to continue helping the Minutemen rebuild. Marcy was sceptical of the whole thing and when she pressed the black man for more answers about their newfound compatriot he went surprisingly mumb.

"That's up for him to tell you Marcy. I can't betray his trust like that" he said forcing the woman to scowl. She always hated not having the answers she wanted and if this man was going to be living and fighting alongside them she needed to know about him.

What made that hard was his come and go presence in the settlement. He would go off on whatever mission Preston set for him and return when it was completed. He would always walk up to Marcy after it was all said and done and hand her some samples of crops and seeds, allowing her to grow even more and increase the sustainability of Sanctuary. She would never say much to him, offering nothing more than a scowl and a harsh word but he would never retort. He always took what she dished out with stoicism, not really letting it get to him. That intrigued her. Nobody really reacted to her that way. Especially not Jun who she spent less and less time with as the weeks turned to months.

Things went by quickly with most of the settlement, having acquired a few people, not having any real knowledge about what was going on between Preston and the newly minted general. Marcy hadn't really cared when he was given that rank. After all what did it mean if he had no army to command? That seemed to change overnight.

Fort Independence was re-taken and quickly set up as a base of operations for the growing group. More and more settlements began to ally with them and before long shops had even sprang up, generating a revenue for people to subsist on. The food problem was solved by a few good crops and water was plentiful, Sturges having set up a decontamination system for the nearby stream and lake. Life was good in Sanctuary but Marcy was the only one to still find fault. They still knew nothing about him and aside from his sad eyes she hadn't gotten any glimpse of his motivations.

All too quickly it came out however. The institute was the driving force behind him. Retrieving his son. Avenging his wife. The Minutemen had been asked by their general to bury the inhabitants of vault 111, the truth about his wife Nora finally coming to the surface. Marcy became a lot less harsh with him when he gave her whatever crop he had found in the Commonwealth, instead of scowling at him she would smile lightly and thank him. It wouldn't hurt to be kind. After all, he had been the motivating force behind all of this and she could understand his loss better.

It was only later that she felt herself want to weep for her leader. It came out. The entire sad story. They had abducted his child, killed his wife, and molded his son, Shaun, into the leader of the institute. The man had tried to reason with his son, desperately trying to convince him that what the institute was doing was wrong. It didn't work and the Minutemen, seeing no other choice, were led into battle by their general. He had no choice but to kill his son but she refused to acknowledge that the man they found in the institute was his son. He was the creation of something beyond his father's control and had to be stopped. The little boy had, for all intents and purposes, been murdered in the vault and replaced by the monster he had become.

There was much fanfare after that. The entire Commonwealth seemed to clamor into the open arms of the Minutemen and everybody cheered their general. The raiders even began to run scared out of the Commonwealth , heading west to a place they heard was a haven for raiders called Nuka World.

The only things left that posed a danger were super mutants and feral ghouls, aside from the wildlife that mostly left the settlers alone. Even the mutant population had been reduced drastically, war being waged on them and their inability to procreate leading to their eventual extinction. The only one really left around was Strong and he couldn't be classified as a super mutants anymore due to the milk of human kindness he had found. Apparently Nuka Cola was what convinced him to give up his violent ways.

All was right in the Commonwealth or at the very least as right as it could be. Everyone had a smile on their face now and for the first time in a very long time it looked like there was a future.

But not for the general. He would smile and nod, accepting the congratulations of everyone who wanted to offer them before inevitably going off on his own. It was what he did. And for some reason Marcy couldn't stop herself from watching him and worrying. Why was she worrying anyway? She had asked herself that multiple times. She should have been more concerned with patching up her marriage and moving on with her life but for some reason her mind remained fixated on the general. One night she decided to speak with him. That was one thing she noticed. Everybody spoke AT him but nobody ever spoke WITH him. She carried a bottle of vodka that she had carried with her since Quincy hut never found an opportunity to open it. Nothing was joyful enough to toast.

She found him behind the remains of his old home, stoking the flames of a campfire while he hummed. It was a sad tune, in she instantly recognized from Diamond City radio. "Don't they knoooow, it's the ennnnd of the world, it ended when I lost your love" he said quietly himself until she had cleared her throat from behind him, startling the man who jumped to his feet ready for a fight. For some reason she found it comical and can't help but suppress the chuckle that escapes her mouth with her hand. "The war is over general. You can rest now" she says, letting a bit of sarcasm creep into her voice.

He smirks back and shakes his head. "Hello Marcy. What can I do for you?" He asks, always willing to lend a hand. For some reason the gesture strikes a strange feeling in her chest and she shakes her head sideways. "Actually it's more about wanting to well, thank you for all you've done for us. I know that I haven't been very grateful to you, and with all you've done I thought it was time that I grew up and act my age so I was wondering if you'd share a drink with me?" She asks to which the man quirks his eyebrow. For some reason she found it an incredibly attractive motion. "Marcy Long, wanting to share a drink with me? What a brave New world" he says teasing her before he gestures to the open space on the log next to him.

She ignores his jibe, secretly enjoying how he fired back at her before making her way to his side, sitting on the log and crossing her legs, staring into the fire while she takes a swig from the bottle, offering it to him as soon as she is done. He takes it and swallows his swig as well, wincing a bit as he does. "Wow that's strong vodka" he says, coughing as he takes a deep breath. She can't help but laugh, watching the indomitable general be defeated by one sip of vodka. "What's the matter? Can handle a Deathclaw but not a vodka bottle?" She asks to which he responds "I had power armor for the deathclaw. I'd need a iron lung to handle this" he says , handing it back to her.

Their laughter dies down and is replaced by silence, the crackling of the fire the only other thing that can be heard.

"I lost my son too, you know. I understand how you feel" she says simply, tears coming unbidden to her eyes as she remembers Kyle, her little boy. An arm quickly comes around her shoulder and pulls her close, her head involuntarily going to his shoulder as she began to sob. She never had this opportunity before. She had to be strong for Jun to get him through it. She had not mourned properly. "I know Marcy. I know" he says, tears coming to his eyes as he rubs her back, gently calming her as she leans more and more into him. She was relying on him. For the first time she had directly asked for his help and like everyone else he had helped he didn't let her down. She knew it was wrong. She should be in her husband's arms and she should be relying on him but she didn't feel safe in Jun's arms. Not anymore. Why did she feel safe in Frank's?

Her tears slowly subside and she remains close to him, wiping her tears on his jacket and hugging him close. "I am so sorry about Shaun Frank. You had gone so far looking for him. You are a good father" she says simply. Little did she know that she had just said the one thing Frank needed to hear. He needed to hear that even if he wasn't able to save Shaun he had done all he could. He had tried. There were too many damn people in the world, before and after the bombs, who said that they had tried when they really didn't. They didn't give their all. Not like Frank had.

"Thank you Marcy, that means the world to me" he says leading her to smile up at him, her eyes looking straight into his. Neither of them could pinpoint when it happened. One minute they were looking at each other and the next their lips were locked together, Marcy's arms going around his broad shoulders as she sat herself in his lap. It was passionate and strong. She had never been kissed like this. His hands were on her waist, pulling her even closer into him than she was before. It wasn't long after that that her hands found their way under his shirt and were working quickly at stripping off his armor, letting it fall to the ground with a thud while his lips moved to her neck, tracing a burning path up and down her pulse point.

She cooed and moaned, never wanting someone as bad as she wanted Frank at that moment. For some reason they were able to make their way into Frank's home and land on his bed. Luckily for them all the windows had been boarded up prohibiting anyone from looking inside and seeing what was happening. Marcy had to keep herself from screaming as she felt him enter her, her pants having been the first to go before he ripped open her shirt and began to kiss and suckle at her breasts.

It was erotic, full of passion and for some reason love. Pain has the odd ability to bring people together in ways one wouldn't expect. Pain turns into a desperation to not be in pain and love is the quickest way to cure such a pain.

The morning came and Marcy awoke, finding herself wrapped in the arms of the man she had come to comfort last night. Guilt instantly eats at her and she is quick to extricate herself from the bed, clothing herself as best as she can and returning to her and Jun's home. He was still asleep, luckily for her and she slips into bed beside him, hoping he will not notice. He doesn't even wake up. A part of her is thankful for this, not wanting to have to explain where she was the previous night. But another part of her, that traitorous part, whispered that she missed being in HIS arms. Missed his lips, his penetrating gaze and his passion.

She knew it could never happen again. She was married. She couldn't betray her husband. Not like this and not now.

The next few days passed with the two avoiding each other, not even daring to make eye contact less they give themselves away to the other settlers.

But this side stepping phase does not last long and Marcy quickly realizes that she at least needs him as a friend. She cares too much for him now to lose him completely. Yes. She would love him still. As a friend. She would love Jun as her husband and Frank as her friend. It was all about setting one's relationships in the correct order.

She approached him that day at his home, smiling as she sees him working on a rifle at his table. "We have to talk" she says tentatively and he turns nodding and standing, closing the door so they could have privacy. Perhaps that wasn't the best move. As soon as the door closes Marcy finds herself rushing into his arms and pressing her lips to his once again and like last time he obliges, as equally unable to resist this woman. They wind up in his bed once more and in the afterglow lay there, staring at the ceiling. He has his arms around her waist, pulling her close, almost possessively. Jun had never done that. Sex had been a passionless affair in their marriage, even from the beginning and sex with Frank was anything but passionless.

When he was on top of her he kissed and nuzzled, whispering sweet nothings to her. She felt like his entire world was her when they were together. She had never known sex could be more. Now she knew why it was sometimes called lovemaking.

"What do we do?" He asks her, wanting to know what she has to say before venturing his own opinion. He knew that Preston and Codsworth had seen the two at the campfire and it wasn't long before others began to pick up on what was happening. "I don't know" she whispers back, scared and ashamed of herself ,her hand reaching for his. "But….I…..well…..I think I love you" she says, scared that she had said that too soon. But her fears are instantly replaced with joy as she hears him whisper back, "I love you too. But what about Jun? We can't do this to him." He says, feeling awful for the man he was betraying. He was his leader, a !an who he was supposed to be able to trust. Yet here he was in bed with the man's wife, in love, head over heels, with her.

"Can we….just stay here a while? Not have to face anything right now and just cuddle?" She asks to which Frank smiles and leans in, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Never thought prickly Marcy Long would be a cuddle bunny" he says teasingly making her fake scowl at the nickname he had just given here. "You are lucky that I love you" she says before breaking out into laughter, the ridiculousness of their situation apparent to her and her lover. It isn't long until the gentle caresses turn into more, his hand moving over her bare side and resting on her rear end. She goes wide eyed, never having been touched there as he nuzzles into her neck. It appeared there was so much she needed to learn about lovemaking. She was happy to have such a teacher.

All good things come to an end and a thoroughly pleased Marcy exits his home, walking down the street towards where she and Jun had been staying. Her husband was seated at the table, head in his hands. "Jun, we...we have to talk" she says placing her hand on his shoulder which he quickly shrugs off, standing to glare at her. "I already know Marcy. I already know" the anger drops from his face quickly though and he just looks through the window. "I knew it was happening I just didn't know how to stop it. How to fix us. We lost everything Marcy. Our home. Our son. It seemed like we were going to die. I know I wasn't there for you. I wasn't as good a husband as I could've been. I wasn't there for you. I thought when we got here that there would be a chance to fix everything. Restart. But how could we replace Kyle? I saw how you looked at him. You know that?" He asks, turning to look at his wife.

She has the sense to look ashamed but Jun just smiles and shakes his head. "He was a hero. He didn't just let his son slip through his grasp. He chased him to the end of the world. He did everything a father and husband should. Everything I didn't for you" he says, looking down once more before he walks over and grasps her shoulders. "Does he make you happy?" He asks to which she can't hide the sad smile that spreads across her face.

"Yes Jun. Very much" she says to which he smiles and nods once again. "And does he make you feel safe? Do you think you can have a happy future with him?" He asks, receiving another set of affirmative answers from his wife. "Then I want you to be happy Marcy. Go and be with him. I release you from our vows" he says solemnly, the act taking much out of him as he seems to visibly shrink within himself. He hugs her close, kissing her cheek before stepping back and returning to his seat. Marcy opens and closes her mouth a few times, wanting to say something but not finding the right words to say to the man she had been married too. Instead she makes to leave knowing that nothing could be said to fix the man's broken heart. Instead she grabs the few things she has and sets them in her suitcase turning to him just before she leaves. "Thank you" she says simply heading back to the other side of the neighborhood, back to Frank.

He was waiting for her, standing outside his door in his civilian clothes. He smiles at her and hugs her close, seeing the sadness in her eyes. He kisses her cheek and grasps the handle of her suitcase, taking her hand with his other and escorting her into her new home.

The settlement knew what had happened. After all, it was a small community and word travelled fast. Nobody passed judgement. The war had taken too much out of everyone to do such a thing. And the two people in question had lost more than anyone else could lay claim too. Eventually Frank stepped down as acting general of the minutemen, Preston quickly being promoted to replace him. The man was uncomfortable with the position of power, but he took to it and everybody trusted Preston. After all, he had Frank watching him like a hawk. What had happened to the previous minutemen would not happen here.

Marcy was unconcerned with these trivial matters of government however. She was more concerned about growing crops in their backyard and listening to the radio with Frank. Her life had certainly changed and she was certainly very happy. Marcy secretly had always craved affection and Frank was an endless supply of it. Without warning he would kiss her, hug her close or sometimes, when he was feeling more adventurous, seduce her. Her favorite times were when she was in the garden and she would feel Frank's hands begin to grope at her, pulling her back into his chest. She was never under the illusion that Frank found her unattractive or that their lovemaking was just for procreation though that did come quite soon with how often the two would participate in such activities.

It wasn't long at all until Marcy was showing, a gently bump giving way to a filled belly. This was when a lot of the neighborhood got another glimpse of the old Marcy, mood swings affecting her particularly bad. Frank was always the one who received the most of it but he had a surefire way of silencing her when she was in one of her moods. He would pull her close, kiss her passionately and threaten to "put her to bed" a suggestive tone in his voice every time that made the Asian woman clam up instantly.

She was happy. Happier than she had ever been before. She would just lay awake at night, her husband resting next to her, his arms wrapped about her waist and she would caress her belly through the night dress she wore, feeling as their child kicked or moved. Jun had been one of the first to congratulate the two, going as far as to have built a rocking horse toy for when the baby was born.

"You are loved whoever you are jn there" she says teasing her baby and cooing down at the bump. This only promoted another kick from the baby who would be coming any day now. She just hoped she would be ready. After all, her first birth had not been easy. Kyle had been difficult but worth it and somehow she thought that Frank would be more able to handle the horrible things she would undoubtedly scream at him. Mostly because he couldn't understand Chinese she thought to herself with a chuckle before she looks at the sleeping man beside her. Her hands instantly go to his head, her long digits gently curling and uncurling his dark strands. He smiles in his sleep, always being able to tell when she was touching him.

"I love you general" she says teasingly, always referring to him as general when they were alone. He usually hated it but found it quite alluring when he came home one day to find her in a Minuteman uniform, unbuttoned and undone of course. She never understood how she was able to keep the hat on in the ensuing fun and now that she thought about it that was the night that their baby had most likely been conceived.

She shrugs and looks back down at her belly, continuing to run her hands along it and thinking back to what her mother said about looking out for herself. That she was alone. She would not tell her child the same thing.

"Mommy and Daddy will always be here to look out for you" she whispers in Mandarin. "Even when nobody else does"


End file.
